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Shane feels guilty for all of Ilya's sacrifices. Seeing Ilya's Instagram posts tips him over the edge. Maybe he's finally ready for the world to know more.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,224
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76650501
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With the recent news of Shane's pregnancy, Ilya becomes much more territorial and possessive, resulting in a getaway to the cottage where, with a bit of luck, they both can get rid of the tension that has been on their shoulders.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 11,760
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76665626
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Shane has a surprise for Ilya. Shane and Ilya hadn’t bothered closing the blinds when they’d finished fucking the previous night. They’d been nearly asleep, a sweaty entanglement of limbs and hair and sheets and muffled moans, when Shane had remembered that he had a surprise for Ilya, one that necessitated setting an alarm and getting up early. He’d only told Ilya about the surprise part before they’d fallen asleep, and now that the first light of the day began to filter through the leafy canopy outside, Shane knew he wasn’t going to fall back asleep. As quietly as he could, he reached for his phone and turned off the alarm he’d set. Beside him, Ilya twitched in his sleep, his lashes fluttering delicately against his face. Shane wanted to reach out and stroke his face, and he wanted to watch Ilya sleep forever. He wanted to hold Ilya and be held by Ilya. Ilya inhaled sharply, suddenly awake beside Shane now. “Good morning,” Ilya said, stretching his arms above his head and yawning. His t-shirt rode up, exposing the taut skin of his belly, and Shane considered abandoning his plan entirely to spend the morning in bed. “Surprise.” “Surprise?” Shane said. “You said there was surprise,” Ilya said. “For me.” “There is,” Shane said. “But you are not naked and there is no breakfast in bed,” Ilya said, pursing his lips into a pout. “So how can there be surprise?” “There are lots of kinds of surprises,” Shane said, to which Ilya looked doubtful. “Canadians are too boring for real surprises,” he said finally, wrapping Shane in a hug and rolling over onto him. Ilya’s weight pressed the air out of Shane’s lungs momentarily, leaving him with the feeling of having been suspended in space. “This is an exciting Canadian surprise,” Shane said, pushing Ilya off of him. “We have to go now, or we’ll be too late.” “The surprise can’t wait two minutes for me to suck your dick?” Ilya said. He flashed a smile at Shane. “My dick will be here when we get back,” Shane said. “And you can have it for longer than two minutes.” “One minute is maybe actually all I need,” Ilya said. “Fuck you,” Shane said, swatting Ilya’s elbow as he pushed the blankets off of them. “I know you want me to fuck you,” Ilya said. “Fuck off.” Shane swung his legs out of bed, reaching for a pair of shorts on the floor with his feet. He stepped into the shorts—Ilya’s, it appeared—and pressed his face against the glass of the window. The sky was turning a golden yellow, last night’s spiderwebs heavy with dew as a new day began. They needed to get moving. “I know you like it,” Ilya said, which wasn’t wrong, though Shane was unwilling to give him the satisfaction of knowing this. “I’d like it more if you got dressed and met me outside,” Shane said. He shuffled into a shirt—his own, this time—he found on the floor and went to the back door, where he’d stashed a small bag with a blanket and an apple for each of them last night. He was lacing up his sneakers when Ilya appeared, wearing a Team Canada shirt from the World Juniors the year before they’d met. It was an old shirt from the back of Shane’s closet, bought back before he had filled out the musculature of his frame, and the fabric was tight against Ilya’s body. The entire scene made the blood in Shane’s ears pound, forcing him to once again consider abandoning his plan so Ilya could fuck him face-first into the sofa all morning. Ilya took an apple from Shane and bit off a chunk. “Was that surprise?” Ilya said. “After I cook you tuna melt, you finally make me breakfast in return? Raw apple?” “Not the surprise,” Shane said. “Not even close. And I literally cooked for you last night.” He motioned for Ilya to follow him out the back door, where they passed the ashen remains of last night’s fire. The blackened coals were still damp from the water they’d used to extinguish the flames. At the end of the patio, they caught the deer path that hugged the shoreline of the lake. Shane reached for Ilya’s hand and held it tightly, even though the trail was really only wide enough for them to walk single file and the brush was summer-dense. He kept turning around and smiling at Ilya, thrilled that they could act like this outside of the confines of a hotel room or a locked door, even though more than once Shane was convinced he’d gotten lost. With most of his mind focused on Ilya, these woods where he’d spent so much time suddenly seemed unfamiliar—larger and denser than he’d noticed. Shane prided himself on his observation skills. He made sure to tell his parents as often as he could that he was grateful for his mom for introducing him to hockey and grateful for his dad for introducing him to birdwatching. Hockey had been the first love of his life, but birding afforded him access to a supernatural calm that anchored him through the ups and downs of each season—the hockey season, the year’s seasons. Everyone who wanted to play on the big stage had to learn how to face the pressures of the league, and Shane had never told any of the guys where his poise came from. His ability to stand up tall in the face of blaring noise and flashing lights, his presence of mind to follow the puck up and down the ice—these were honed just as much by the hours he and his mom spent at the rink as by the hours he and his dad had spent together in the woods around their cottage while he was growing up.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,173
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76627581
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you were reckless, you were hungry, you were real by rosemontstreet
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-29
“I am normal,” says Shane, rearranging his silverware on the table. “And I will pass Logic, ignore Ilya Rozanov, and continue to be normal forever until I die.” When he reaches for Rose’s fork to move it parallel to her plate, she grabs his wrist and gently sets it on the table.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,670
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76680316
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Unmaking Heart by alwaysonyourleft
Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)
2025-12-29
Ilya Rozanov thought he had Harvard figured out: smart friends, good connections, and a life that balanced privilege with humility. But all of that changes the moment he meets Shane Hollander—his best friend’s younger brother. Shane is nothing like Gray Hollander: kind, talented, and effortlessly brilliant, with a charm that makes Ilya rethink everything he thought he knew about friendship, attraction, and ambition.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 46,665
- Chapters:
- 8/8
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #75552531
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what you want, what you need (has been killing me) by blongblong
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-29
Ilya’s soulmate seems to care a lot, about some very, very, specific things. Ilya tries to imagine what it’d be like to be on the receiving end of that kind of focus, that intensity. He thinks of Hollander staring him down during their last face-off. Hollander had looked like he wanted to rip Ilya’s stick from his hands and beat him with it. It was kind of hot, if Ilya’s being honest. It was even hotter when Hollander won the face-off. Christ. Ilya really needs to stop fucking thinking about Shane Hollander. or: ilya rozanov has been ready to meet his soulmate since he was ten. he thinks it'd be great if they also got the memo, because he’s running out of space to keep all their ginger ale.
- Part 2 of you and i might just be the best thing
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 14,756
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76513166
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Shane and Ilya decide to attend the NHL Awards after their first season playing together for the Ottawa Centaurs. As Ilya sneaks out for a cigarette, he comes across an old friend and catches up with him. “You guys should have hyphenated,” Marlow commented. “Used both last names. Like Rozanov-Hollander. Or Hollander-Rozanov, if you want to go alphabetically.” “Would have been hard to fit on a jersey,” Ilya said. “And is a mouthful.” To his surprise, Marlow grinned. “Good point,” he said. “So how has the first year of married life been treating you?”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,482
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #76675246
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Ilya Rozanov runs away from an Alpha fighting ring and ends up on Shane Hollander's property. ~ Ilya's POV/sister fic to 'Sweet Cinnamon'
- Part 2 of Mingling Scents
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,262
- Chapters:
- 4/4
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76611781
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5 times Shane Hollander makes a conscious effort to publicly display his affection for Ilya Rozanov, and 1 time he doesn't need to think so hard about it.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 8,139
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76604681
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We didn’t even kiss He doesn’t send the text, but he thinks it nonstop for two days. We didn’t even kiss He doesn’t send the text, but he thinks it nonstop for two days. The strangest part is he doesn’t know why it bothers him so much. Everything that happened that night was hot as fuck. The way Rozanov’s eyes roamed greedily over Shane’s body as he touched himself had felt like a claiming, almost more than Rozanov filling him up as he pounded into Shane from behind. Just thinking about the weight of Rozanov’s gaze has Shane half hard on the airplane home. He goes through his meal plan for the next week in an effort to distract himself but thinking about food only leads to thinking about swallowing Rozanov’s dick, Rozanov’s hands clenched in his hair, and now his problem has grown, so to speak. He drops his bags in his room and hits the shower fifty five seconds after he gets home, driven by a desperate need to exorcise the still-burning embers of lust that have lodged under his skin. He comes easily, the mess swirling down the drain as hot water sluices over him and he thinks maybe he could go again, except… We didn’t even kiss Icemelt trickles down his spine, quenching the fire that’s struggling to rekindle itself. He’s played the entire night forwards and backwards in his mind, and the only conclusion he comes to is that Rozanov is an asshole and that’s all there is to it. He likes to fuck with Shane and he likes to fuck Shane. Just like he fucks with everyone. Just like he fucks anyone. Shane turns off the shower and steps out but then just stands there, dripping onto the bathmat, like his brain is unable to remember what comes next. His eyes defocus and he doesn’t know how much time has passed before they come back into focus, snagging on the naked image of himself in the mirror—crystal clear thanks to the heaters under the glass. People tell him he’s good looking and he has to believe them. When he was younger, his mother always told him he was a handsome boy, but all mothers say that. Then the sponsors kept talking about his “marketability” and wanting him to be their “face” and it hadn’t taken him long to put two and two together—although arguably longer than it should have. Rozanov had even called him “pretty” one time and he’d been grateful for the pound of makeup on his face that hid his blush. But he doesn’t see it and he never has. His eyes rake over his form and all he sees is a bundle of anxieties wrapped up in a body he’s carefully honed for one thing only, and coping with the vagaries of Russian assholes isn’t it. He finally thinks to grab a towel and start drying himself off. He needs to eat and he needs to call his mom and then he needs to sleep. He really hopes he can sleep. He wishes it was still the middle of the season. If he had a game to focus on, or even a string of games on the road, he could maybe shake this sick emptiness he feels inside. Instead all he has is summer training and being alone with his thoughts for weeks on end. Which is why, when Hayden texts him at 6am and asks if he wants to go for a run, he accepts. They have a good rhythm together, developed over the past year of rooming together on the road. Hayden can be chatty, but he lets Shane set the pace so if he’s not in the mood he can simply run fast enough that they have to save their breath. He types out a meeting place and sends it. He’s about to roll out of bed but hesitates, his thumb hovering over “Lily” three messages down. We never even kissed He lets out an aggrieved sound. What the hell is wrong with him? He just had the best sex of his life and here he is hung up on the one imperfect detail. Story of his life, really. Star hockey player, well on his way to being wealthy, reportedly good looking. There’s only one blot on his otherwise perfect resume and it’s the one thing he can’t let go of, can’t erase from existence. All he can do is hope everything else crowds out the stain, overwrites it large enough that nobody notices. He types out a message, every letter feeling like a 200lb deadlift. Have a good summer! There. What he should have written in the first place. He sends it before he can second guess himself and tosses his phone on the bed as he gets dressed to go see if he can outrun this weird pit that’s opened in his gut. He hears a buzz as he pulls his shirt over his head. Don’t have too much fun 😛 He huffs out a breath, something like a chuckle tinged with more relief than amusement. He can’t send that other text now without it being weird. It’s over. He laces up his shoes and is out the door five minutes later. He doesn’t think about kissing Rozanov again for at least an hour. see you soon ;) It’s the start of the season and they’ve only just posted the schedule in the locker room. He noted it too—third game at home against Boston. He hasn’t heard from Rozanov in almost two months, but that stupid little message with that stupid little winky face makes him happier than it has any right to. Because maybe he spent the summer wondering if there would be another six months of radio silence. Maybe he spent
- Part 1 of Heated Rivalry Show: Missing Scenes
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 1,550
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76572626
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if devotion is a river, then i'm floatin' away by omis
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-28
When Shane woke up this morning, he felt no different than he did yesterday. He didn’t expect to, really. It was a Tuesday, it was May, and the Metros were playing a home game today. It was also Shane’s birthday. Or: A lesson in loving someone so wholeheartedly that you intentionally make space in your life for their habits and learn to cook their traditional foods, written by Ilya Rozanov
- Part 1 of may your trials end in full bloom
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,379
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76570751
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During the 'easier' episodes Ilya can manage. Usually he can gather enough strength to get out of bed, even if it's just to slouch around the cottage or outside. He'll eat whatever Shane puts in front of him. He'll put on a brave face when Yuna and Dave come over to visit. And then when the evening rolls around he's so exhausted he falls asleep around eight. The 'heavy' episodes are harder. Ilya will spend most of the day sleeping. He will eat small bites of whatever Shane gives him, sometimes nothing at all. Showering is out of the question. If it's a particular bad episode, he won't even leave the bed. Shane is scared to leave Ilya alone during the 'heavy' episodes. He knows Ilya wouldn't hurt himself on purpose. But he also knows that depression is very complex and sneaks up on their victims when they're most vulnerable. Or, Ilya experiences a bad depression episode. Shane is there to catch him when he falls.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,671
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76613736
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Shane adjusted his tie for the third time, his skin prickling with awareness of the toy nestled deep inside him. Shane's muscles tensed under his shirt, his reactive nature making him hyper-aware of the remote tucked in Ilya's pocket. Ilya leaned close as he passed, his breath warm against Shane's ear. “Behave,” Shane's voice cracks. "I-I'm fine, just a h-headache." The lie burns in his throat as he forces a smile, his hand trembling against the back of his neck, eyes darting anywhere but at Hayden. Completely unaware of the hand climbing Shane’s inner thigh, fingers pressing into the tender flesh just below his groin. Shane's pulse hammers against his collar as sweat beads at his hairline. Shane's adam' s apple lurches violently. He can feel Ilya's smirk burning into his profile without looking. He bites down on his tongue, tasting copper. Ilya's presence sears into his left side, while his other hand makes a show of adjusting something in his pocket. The vibrations suddenly intensify, sending a violent shudder through Shane's core. His vision blurs at the edges. Shooting electricity up his spine. His knuckles go white against the leather seat. His teeth clamp down on his bottom lip as Ilya's grip becomes bruising, fingers digging into the flesh through the soft black material. Leaning in, hot breath scorching Shane's ear: " Get yourself together, Hollander," each syllable dripping with that Russian growl that makes Shane pathetically weak. Fucking. Sadistic. Asshole. And all because of one goddamn bet. Only two hours earlier he was in the comfort of his own home. Steam billows from the bathroom as the door swings open. Ilya emerges, towel riding dangerously low on sharp hip bones, droplets racing down the planes of his chest and disappearing beneath the white terry cloth. Shane's fingers trace the edges of a small brown parcel on the kitchen counter. Ilya Rozanov, the label reads in neat block letters. Below that: Shane's address, his apartment number. Ilya freezes mid-step. The corner of his mouth twitches upward. "This showed up today." Shane lifts the box slightly. "Your name. My place." Ilya's bare feet pad across the hardwood. He plucks the package from Shane's grip with long fingers, his knuckles brushing Shane's palm. "Mine," he says, placing it on the far edge of the counter, just beyond Shane's reach. "So I don't get to see what's inside?" Ilya reaches for a pair of grey joggers draped over the arm of the couch, pulling them on with a fluid motion. "It's for you, actually." Shane's stomach flips. The NHL26 loading screen bathes their faces in blue light as they sink into the sofa, controllers in hand. Shane's eyes dart to the kitchen every thirty seconds. The box sits there, taunting him. His birthday was ages ago, their anniversary wasn’t for another couple months, Today is... nothing. His player skates past the puck. Again. The controller vibrates with another missed opportunity. Ilya's score climbs: 3-0, 5-0, 7-0.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,625
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76615041
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Shane’s birthday was coming up in a few days and the schedule worked out so they both had the same day off to celebrate a little early. Ilya was going to fly up to spend his 18 hours of freedom with Shane. So when Ilya called two weeks ago and asked what Shane wanted, the only good answer was “You.” Ilya responded with his typical sarcasm, “No. What do you want for present? I want to watch your eyes sparkle as you unwrap present.” Shane’s only thought was back to being pinned down at the cottage, “Well remember this summer when you had me pinned underneath you, and we had like the best sex ever. I guess I just want that again. I know it’s not really a present. But I haven’t seen you in so long, and I miss you.” “I miss you too. Thanks for idea.”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,285
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76602456
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Shane finds his husband and son in the living room. In short, Ilya has skin-to-skin contact with little Misha.
- Part 3 of Little Ice Flower
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,633
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76524911
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Suddenly he was in his cottage and it was summertime. He knew this must be a dream because nothing hurt; not like reality where he was sure he had broken something and maybe had a concussion. Oh God, did he have brain damage? He was wearing loose shorts and no shirt and he was being pulled back against something very warm and solid. A pair of arms snaked around his chest and pulled him backwards. “I was told I would be rewarded for making lunch.” Ilya’s low voice rumbled through him and he mouthed at his neck. “I have come to collect.” Or After he is hurt in the Raiders game, Shane sees visions of his future with Ilya.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,734
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76547091
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All I want for Christmas is You by drxxmer
Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid
2025-12-27
Ilya‘s and Shane‘s first Christmas as a married couple with lots of presents and lots of love.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,707
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76499181
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The afternoon sunlight beats golden through the windshield as they drive home, and Shane’s heart could grow wings and take flight. He can feel Ilya watching him, blue eyes caressing the side of his jaw, the spray of his freckles. It’s impossible to pinpoint exactly when Ilya started looking at him like this. Not like he wanted to eat Shane, but like he wanted to inhale him. Capture a moment in amber and store it away forever. Shane knows the feeling.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,246
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76515691
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when shane gets the injury that would come to end his career, in the moment he’s just thankful he didn’t break his jaw. or: shane knew, in the abstract, that one day he would play his last professional nhl game. it never occurred to him that hockey would choose that day for him.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 36,427
- Chapters:
- 5/5
- Files:
- 2 versions
- AO3:
- #75151846
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Ilya had realized it the moment he’d opened his eyes a few days prior, too warm under the covers to be comfortable. Nothing had even happened yet, but he'd felt immediately distant from himself. Like somewhere between sleeping and waking, he’d stepped out of his body and into another.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,472
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Files:
- 1
- AO3:
- #76496446